Crusade
by Larceny of Thieves
Summary: Years have passed since the Horde and Alliance assaulted Ice Crown Citadel and failed to eliminate Arthas. This is the tale of a half-elf Blood Knight who takes up the task of his father, and charged by his people, to eliminate the threat of the Lich King
1. Prologue

Prologue: A Traitors Destruction

**Prologue: A Traitors Destruction**

Mercurious sat on the bed in his home, the sounds of the bustling city of Silvermoon making his elven ears twitch. His glowing emerald eyes were focused on the picture he held between his unusually tanned hands. The picture was of a elven woman, her garments robes of white, who's arms were wrapped around a human man's waist. The man was a heavily armored one, his hair cut neat in a military fashion and jet black in color. The only thing that signified him from the other Alliance warriors was a symbol of the Naaru, which was a small clasp on his right shoulder. The man was a Paladin, and oddly enough, his father.

He sighed and placed the picture down on his night stand and leaned back against the wall. It was true, he was a half-elf…a half Blood Elf, to be precise. His father was a Paladin of the Alliance, and his mother a priestess of Silvermoon. Apparently they had met when the elves were still in the Alliance…though he had been conceived out of wed-lock. His mother, though, assured him that his father had died in the initial onslaught on Northrend years ago, when the Alliance and Horde had tried to assault the Lich King's citadel.

Being a half-elf wasn't easy, though. He endured much scorn from his fellow brethren, looked at as an impure elf…not worthy of the name, and burden his race carried. True enough, he wasn't addicted to magic…his human blood had made that curse not his own, but it had certainly came with a curse of it's own—a weakness to the Plague, that had turned most of the Alliance members in the Eastern Kingdoms to scourge. Even his brother and sister, whom were full elven from his mother's new marriage, took the time to occasionally make a stab at his heritage.

But all was not lost, he felt. He had been accepted into the Blood Knight academy, and even became the honor graduate of his class. His mother was proud, saying that he had taken that from his father. He wasn't so sure…though he had taken his father's name as his own when he graduated from the academy. His old name completely gone now, he too would be known as Mercurious. But now….now he had a final test to perform before he would be accepted as a Hero of Silvermoon: Dar'Khan. The man had supposedly betrayed the Elves and worked for the Lich King.

A soft knock brought him from his thoughts and he hoped from his bed, moving to the door and opening it. Leaning on the door was another elf, blonde hair falling down his shoulders and onto his priestly robes.

"Ready to go, 'Merc'," the elf asked, a smirk coming to handsome features as he stood off the door.

Merc sighed and allowed his brother entrance to his room before he crossed the stone floor to his great sword that sat in the corner. "I told you Sheade, I fight this battle alone. It's a test set to only me."

"C'mon…don't be stupid. It's Dar'Khan…people have been trying to kill that traitor for years…and none have succeeded. Why do you think they'd give the job to you, the 'half-elf disgrace'," Sheade asked, picking up the picture that was in Merc's hands moments before.

Merc turned to look at him, running a hand over the small goatee on his chin before shrugging. "I suppose you have a point….alright then, I'm goin' to need your help bro."

Sheade frowned at the use of Merc's slang. Though he was a noble, he spoke like a commoner. "Alright…when do we leave?"

Merc hoisted the large blade to his shoulder, a grin forming. "Now seems good enough."

"And what about mother? Just going to leave without saying good bye? Or even Adrienna?"

"Eh…sis won't miss me, believe me. At least now she'll get the bathroom to herself, right? And mother…already knows."

Sheade was silent for a moment before nodding. "To Deatholme."

/\-/\-/\-/\-\/

Bones crunched beneath Merc's feet as he made his way to the steps of the large building that was Dar'Khan's base in Deatholme. He glanced over his shoulder, at the corpses of the Banshee's and phantoms that had blocked his path to the entrance, as well as Sheade who was glancing around.

"Well, this place certainly expects visitors," Sheade said, smirking at his brother.

Merc grinned and looked back forward before he proceeded up the steps at a jog, chain mail boots clinking light on the stone steps. "Well then that means Dar'Khan will be pretty vulnerable."

"Somehow….I doubt that," Sheade mumbled as he followed the Paladin's lead.

Merc walked slowly down the narrow corridors, following them as they took him what seemed like back down to ground level. He brought his hand to the wall, rubbing it slightly against the stone and pulled it back, rubbing a strange substance between armored fingers.

"Scourge blood…" Sheade replied as Merc sniffed it, immediately drawing his hand back, "it's rather typical in a place that's corrupted such as this."

"Seem to know a lot about Scourge, for a priest..," Merc replied as they turned a sharp corner.

"I dabble in a bit of the studies of shadow," Sheade said with a shrug.

"And mother," Merc questioned as they reached the entrance to a large room.

"Disapproves…you are, after all, her pride and joy as the Paladin of the family. I study for my own success, not that of our family name."

Merc looked back and frowned at his brother before peeking around the corner of the entrance. The room was circular, steps leading down to the floor a few feet. At the back were book shelves lining the walls, with a desk centered on them. At the desk was an elf, his skin a tainted blue, stark white hair falling onto purple robes and a book in his hands. Merc leaned back and sighed, drawing that large sword from his sheath.

"He's in there…I'm gonna go in and start fighting…only intervene if need be, Sheade. Other than that, stay out of sight," Merc said, earning a shrug from his brother before Merc rounded the corner, trotting down the stone steps. The clinking of his chain mail caused Dar'Khan to look from his book, closing it as bright blue eyes focused on the Paladin. A malicious grin formed and Dar'Khan stood, the wooden legs of his chair grating against the stone.

"Another Blood Elf from Silvermoon coming to 'prove his worth', hm," Dar'Khan asked, stepping around the front of the desk.

Merc's jaw set firm as he came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. "My name is Mercurious, son of High Priestess Jalania Theron. I have been sent here to destroy you, Dar'Khan."

Dar'Khan looked at the Paladin for a moment before he sighed. "Well…as lame as your introduction was, I didn't ask for your name."

"Yeah…well…figured you'd want to know the name of the Elf who would destroy you," Merc replied, bringing that large blade around, holding it readily in front of him, tip towards his opponent.

"Oh, I know who you are, half-elf…regardless…if you want to fight me single handedly…so be it," Dar'Khan replied, a staff seeming to materialize into his right hand.

Without another word, Merc ran forward, bringing his sword above his head and slashing downward as hard as he could at the traitor. Metal meeting stone rang out as Dar'Khan side stepped the attack, whipping his staff around to meet Merc's jaw, and send the Paladin stumbling backwards.

Dar'Khan grinned as the Paladin staggered back, that attack obviously having some effect on the half-elf. He brought his staff up, slamming it down into the ground before pointing a white palm at the boy, shadow energies beginning to form around his fingers. Bringing that palm back across his chest and then forward again, he flung the bolt of shadow at the Paladin, just as he regained his balance.

Merc managed to regain his balance, bright green eyes rising to see the bolt of shadow magics rocketing at him. He brought his sword up, turning it slightly so that the flat part of the blade was facing out. The bolt clashed with the steal before Merc spun the blade again, causing the bolt to be deflected to the wall of the room, where it dissipated on contact with the stone.

Dar'Khan quirked a brow at the Paladins feat before stepping forward, thrusting the tip of the staff at the Paladin, his target the half-elf's stomach to double him over.

Merc saw the staff draw back and managed to spin around the attack, rotating around to just behind Dar'Khan. Coming out of his spin, he swung that large sword much like a baseball bat, the metal cutting easily through Dar'Khan's robe and into the tainted flesh beneath.

Dar'Khan let out a furious howl as the blade tore into his back, the same scourge blood that was on the wall seeping from the wound as he stumbled forward, managing to turn around to face Merc and avoid another swipe of that blade. His palm shot forward again, this time green tendrils of shadow magics forming quickly before another bolt shot forward.

Having brought his blade down again to try and finish Dar'Khan off, his blade had struck the stone floor as the traitor had spun away. That bolt of green energy striking his armor and immediately seeping through the chain mail. Terror. Immediately, Merc became terrified for everything he knew. Scared his mother was under attack, that Silvermoon was under siege by Arthas, and that his sister was even calling out for his help. Fleeing this fight and getting back seemed like the only logical option, so he did. Immediately he rounded from Dar'Khan and sprinted away, directly towards the back of the room opposite of the entrance.

Dar'Khan yanked his staff back up from the stone, watching as the Paladin had fled to the back of the room. As if realizing that he had gone the wrong way, Mercurious turned around, only to be met with Dar'Khan's staff directly to his face.

Pain shot through Merc's body as he fell back, his head cracking against the desk that Dar'Khan had sat at only a few moments before. He tried to blink out the pain, tasting blood in his mouth from the connection with the staff. His strength seemed to have completely left his body…and for some reason, he had been immediately scared for his family. He grunted as he struggled to stand and continue the fight, the guards would not allow a full scale evasion of Silvermoon so easily, so he had nothing to worry about. His strength, however, seemed to have diminished greatly, and he couldn't seemed to get past the sitting position.

"I told you, Paladin…it was foolish of you to come here. And now, you will join the Scourge as one of Arthas' minions," Dar'Khan said, stepping towards Mercurious and bring his hand back—ebony hues forming around his finger tips. Before Mercurious could reacted, a bolt of Holy magic materialized by Dar'Khans arm, ripping through the robe and cutting into his flesh. Dar'Khan let out a fierce growl as he turned to face Sheade, who had picked this time to enter the fray. Sheade was silent as he brought his hands up, bright gold hues forming around both palms as he chanted for another spell to smite Dar'Khan.

"A priest?! A Paladin AND a priest? Those idiots and their faith in the Light…if they want to keep their holy men to be slaughtered, then so be it!" Dar'Khan tossed the staff away, his own hands rising as ebony hues darkened his form, seeming to swirl from his feet.

Merc clutched his sword and thrust it up with all the strength he could muster, leaning forward when he felt resistance. Dar'Khan let out another howl that immediately became garbled. Merc looked up to see the blade of his broad sword drove through Dar'Khans frame, and protruding from his chest.

"Merc! Get up and finished the job," Sheade shouted.

Having felt his strength returned, he sprung up, grabbing the hilt again before twisting the blade and yanking with all his might. The force easily ripped the blade from Dar'Khan and Mercurious followed through with it, spinning backwards and stepping off so that he rotated to the front of the Scourge, and swung again, this time cleaving the Undead's head from his shoulders. Once this was complete, he brought his foot forward and kicked the body down, his breath coming out in spurts as he watched the body fall to a rest.

"…you managed to do it…," Sheade said quietly, coming from behind the Paladin and looking at the body on the ground.

"…thanks for healing my wounds," Merc said, before sheathing his blade and moving to where the head had bounced to a rest a few feet away.

"W,what are you doing," Sheade asked as Merc lifted the head by the hair and stuffed it into the bag on his left hip.

"Well, they aren't just going to believe me if I come back and say, 'Yeah, I killed Dar'Khan. No more worries!'"," Merc said, grinning some at his brother.

"True" Sheade replied before nodding towards the body, "and what about this?"

"Leave it as a message I suppose. Maybe Arthas will get the point—his days are numbered."

Sheade roared with laughter before he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well….I don't know about that, but if anyone can beat him…I'd prefer it to be the half-elf reject brother of mine."

Merc looked at Sheade before smiling fully. "You know…if it wasn't that you were rooting for me, I'd be kinda offended."

Sheade returned his smile before nodding to the door. "Let's head back…I'm sure mother will be thrilled to hear her golden boy killed Dar'Khan.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: After mulling over the story, and looking over some things…I feel that there was too much of a time gap between the prologue and the first chapter. So, I'm re-typing this—and going to continue typing—with pumping out a chapter every week. **

**Chapter 1: Hero's aren't born…**

**DISCLAIMER: World of Warcraft is the property of Blizzard Entertainment Inc.**

* * *

_There are times when I wonder, had I not chosen to become a Paladin, what I would be in this life? Would I be one of the noble artisans that help rebuild our fair city of Silvermoon? Would I have been a magi, apt in the elements and using them to defend our land from the constant threat of the scourge? Or would I have, perhaps, been one of the rangers that provide so much for the city in terms of fine pelts and food. I think, perhaps, I would have just been a priest like my mother before me. _

_In truth, had it not been for the constant threat of the scourge, and the bed time stories of my father's exploits, I would have never chosen the path of Paladin. It's a path riddled with noble choices, choosing the hard right, and more often than not going where others fear to tread. Regardless, there isn't a day goes by that I don't look to the people who have helped shape me and realize just how thankful I am to be what I chose—and not what I was told._

* * *

A heavy thump caused Regent Lord Lor'themar Theron to look up from the meeting table, where all of the ministers and him were adjoined. Several of the ministers took a step back at the sight of the severed head, the green blood of the scourge seeping onto the large map that covered the table. Turning to the source, they Merc standing with his arms crossed.

"Wh-what is the meaning of this," asked a brown haired man, his robes signaling him as a mage.

"You're welcome," Merc replied, causing Theron to nearly grin. The boy was not his own, and had a rebellious streak, but he couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of pride in his step son.

"I do believe that this is the head of the traitor that we requested dead," he replied and the minister that had previously spoke huffed.

"You expect me to believe that this single Paladin—let alone a _half-elf_—defeated him single handedly?! That's preposterous," he cried, throwing his hands up.

A dark haired magister, clad in dark leathers with a bow on her back surveyed Merc as the other ministers broke into a squabble. Finally she spoke, her voice loud, yet thin. "You requested that he go and kill the traitor, and he did. It makes no sense to question it—especially after he provided proof." The ministers silenced themselves. "If he were a pure blood, you'd already be planning a parade in his honor."

Silence reigned for a few moments before the Regent Lord spoke. "Well then…I do believe that is what we should do. Regardless of his heritage, I may remind you that he is my step son—and he has done what no pure blood has done. I leave this task in the ministers' capable hands. William" Merc flinched at the sound of his given name, "come with me."

As they left the ministers, Mercurious glanced back to the door to see that Sheade had already departed and frowned to himself. And he was supposed to the impatient one! After walking back further into the Sunspire, Lor'themar led his step son to his quarters, and then to his personal armory. Merc blinked at the sheer multitudes of weapons on the wall. Honestly, how many great swords, battle axes, and war hammers did one need!? Moving to the wall, the Regent Lord plucked down one of the swords and hefted it in a single hand. Testing the weight, he put it back. He did this several more times with weapons before he finally handed Merc a golden sword, intricate in make. The man was silent as Merc took it in both hands and looked it over, turning and giving it a test swing. His ebon brows rose in wonder as he swung again. It was incredibly light, and Merc found that it took very little effort to swing it.

"That was made for me by our finest smiths, when we first became known as the Blood Elves. It had no name, but the smith called it a blade fit for all Sin'dorei. You, William, are as much as one of us as any other—you have proven that."

Merc looked to him in silence before the Regent Lord stepped around him. "You should go speak with your mother, I'm sure she's dying to hear the news. I shall see you more this evening. Perhaps I might even have some work for you."

"Wait" Merc called, causing the man to turn and look at him, a golden brow raised in question, "I…wasn't able to beat him alone. Sheade helped me…had it not been for him, I'd probably have been killed." If he had to be honest with himself, he'd have died. No questions asked.

The Regent Lord looked him over in silence before he nodded. "Your honesty is a noble quality; however, I know a blade cut when I see one. The killing blow was dealt by you, and that makes you the victor. I shall see that my son's assistance is rewarded, though." And with that he left the armory, leaving Merc to look back to his new weapon.

* * *

"Somebody get some water," came a shout. Mercurious rounded the corner into the part of the Sunspire that housed the priests and priestess' of Silvermoon. Stopping, he took a minute to survey just what exactly was going on.

One of the tapestries that hung at the east side of the room was going up in flames, the smoke beginning to fog at the top of the room. Nearby the tapestries was a tri-candle stand that had been, evidently, knocked into it, causing it to go up in flames. The offender was a female priest who was being ushered away by Merc's mother.

"Out with you, Coralyn. Go outside with the other initiates. Someone go get a frost mage from across the hall," Jalania called, and Merc stepped aside as several of the priests moved out of the room—offender included. His mother finally took notice of him and made a bolt for him, immediately wrapping him in a tight hug.

"William! You're alright," she cooded, tightening her grip. Merc was fairly sure if his mail armor wasn't as sturdy as it was, he'd have been crushed.

"I am. But, uh, your classroom seems to be burning down," Merc said before he ushered his mother out the door. Well, dragged was more like, as she was latched onto him rather fiercely.

"I thought Dar'Khan would have killed you," she said as she released him, tears forming at the edge of her emerald eyes.

"Nope. He's dead. Er, deader," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as the descended the ramp to the outside of the Sunspire. The acolytes for the magi as well as the initiates into the priesthood were gathered at the bottom, though two had already taken into an argument. Merc took notice that one of them was the offender from earlier, and the other was his step sister, Adrienna. He gave a mental sigh.

Heading down the stairs with his mother, he headed off the fight just as the two nearly rammed their heads together.

"You were trying to kill us, wench," roared Adrienna, and Merc stepped between the two just as Coralyn began rolling up the sleeves of her robes.

"Hey, hey now…you two knock it off, eh? It _can't_ be good for available bachelorettes to be screaming at one another in broad day light in FRONT of the Sunspire," he interjected.

"Oh shut it, William. She was burning down the Sunspire! She should be strapped to the back of a horse and drug out into the Ghostlands," Adrienna yelled, more so as she leaned around. Coralyn, the priestess initiate let out a huff.

"I was _not_ trying to kill anyone, I merely tripped while testing a new spell. If I was going to kill you, I'd do it publicly," she shouted back, though she merely folded her arms and closed her eyes, pouting like a small child. Merc opened his mouth to speak, but his mother interjected.

"William, dear, why don't you head home and get some rest. You've had an eventful day today. I'll send word for the maids to get you some food and imported drink. I'll settle this," came her voice, and Merc nodded before he departed the Sunspire, the shrill voices of the two females making him rub his temple. He'd have rather fought Dar'Khan again than deal with two angry banshees.

Entering his room, he immediately unbuckled his sword and set it at the corner of the room. He then began working on his mail armor as he glanced to the picture of his father. It was the same as it always was, his mother arms wrapped around his waist, and him smiling proudly. He was told that was just how he smiled, but just this once…Merc wanted to believe it was just for him.

* * *

**A/N: That completes Chapter 1! Thank you for reading, please review!**


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